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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/23914771">Returning Home</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron/pseuds/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron'>Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Batman - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Gen</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-04-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 20:02:52</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>4,736</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/23914771</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron/pseuds/Team_Alpha_Wolf_Squadron</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A trip to the circus spells out disaster as Dick loses his precious stuffed elephant Zitka.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dick Grayson &amp; Bruce Wayne</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>15</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>132</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>Dick &amp; Bruce, everybody loves dick</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Returning Home</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>It started with a trip to the circus. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“... and then Eleanor threw the ball in the air and caught it in her trunk,” Dick recapped, leaning as forward as he could in his car seat to see Alfred. “Mr Haly said Zitka was feeling a little under the weather which was why they had Eleanor doing most of her stunts and-”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce’s head jerked sharply at the silence, some sixth sense telling him something was wrong.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, “Bruce?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes?” his heart was already beating faster than a fight with Joker.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Can you see Zitka up there?” Zitka. The elephant. The stuffed elephant that had stuck by Dick’s side since Bruce had taken him to his trailer for the last time. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dug through the front, even leaned over to Alfred’s side to make sure it wasn’t under the pedals. “He,” oh dear god no, “He’s probably in the back with you Dick. I’ll look when we stop, okay buddy.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“‘Kay,” Dick said, a happy smile still on his face as they spent the last peaceful half hour of their lives driving up to the manor. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As soon as they got out however, the peace shattered. Bruce searched. He searched more thoroughly than he’d ever searched before, promising Dick with every seat he pushed back and forth that he was sure Zitka was around here somewhere. Zitka had to be, because Dick’s face was already sporting a lip, quivering so much it was only a matter of seconds before something set it off. Alfred, sensing the seriousness of this situation, tried coercing Dick into the manor. Maybe for a cookie? A drink? The circus had to be quite taxing, so surely Dick would enjoy a nice warm glass of milk as they changed into something more comfortable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick didn’t. He just stood there, watching as Bruce tore his car apart. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eventually he could do no more. It was official. Zitka was lost.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“But- but-” Dick’s face grew redder the more his panic mounted, the tears held back still by some unknown force as Bruce tried to wrack his brains as to where they could possibly have left it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you sure you brought it to the circus Dick? Maybe you left him in your room,” a last ditch hope, Bruce knew, since he remembered Zitka in Dick’s little fist as they were driven to the circus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still, memory could be wrong so maybe he was right, and Dick knew that too as he frowned, “I don’t know.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Then let’s go look,” Bruce proposed, grabbing Dick around the waist and carrying him up to his room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>They tore it up. The bed was upended, the vents checked, the bookcases pulled out from the walls and shelves emptied. They checked the bath, the drawers, the little hiding spot Bruce pretended he didn’t know about where Dick kept his candy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Still no Zitka.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Maybe,” he had to keep calm. All those parenting books said kids could sense panic and anxiety and it only made the situation worse so he had to keep calm, “Maybe it’s in the foyer.” Since Bruce knew the elephant had made it downstairs now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They checked there. They checked everywhere they could think of. Even Alfred helped, holding the ladder still as Bruce checked the chandelier.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But no. No matter where they looked, cave or manor, Zitka wasn’t there. Which meant Dick had left him at the circus.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Damn it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Okay,” He took a deep breath, “Okay.” It was their last night, which meant the circus would be packing up and moving on. It had taken an hour to get back to the manor because of the traffic, then four to check the manor itself that there was no elephant. A circus took around six hours to dismantle and be on the road. They had time. Maybe. If Haly’s hadn’t packed early they had time to catch everyone and ask around. So, “Alfred, do you think you could look after Dick while I go check the grounds?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I wanna go,” Dick barked.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Right. Of course he did, but, “I’m just going to check the grounds Dick. Zitka might not even be there, we might have left him on the porch.” He knelt down, “Which is why, in the morning, we’re all going to search the manor again. It’s dark buddy, maybe we missed him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which was a solid argument. Dick knew that too. Mainly because, not even a week ago, Dick thought he had lost his domino on the streets. It had taken a good nights sleep for him to find it in the batmobile, hidden snugly under the seat. Bruce was actually thankful that had happened now as Dick pursed his lips, a sulky, “Fine,” slipping out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Bruce remembered to say as he kissed the top of Dick’s head and grabbed the keys for the car. Who knows, maybe he would look over and see Zitka sitting in the passenger seat sometime on the way over. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>A hopeful wish that was dashed when, periodically, he looked over on his drive back to the circus grounds and no Zitka magically appeared. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The circus was gone when Bruce pulled up, and honestly Bruce cursed whoever decided to get into a freaking car accident for the reason he was late to see them go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He dragged a hand down his face, practicing those breathing exercises as he got out of the car. This was fine. He could work with this. The circus left a lot of trash lying around, and Bruce was sure, if he looked hard enough, he could find Zitka.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He put his phone torch on, starting where Alfred had dropped them off and combing the wet grass until his hands were sticky. The benches where they’d been sitting were gone with the bigtop, still Bruce searched the grounds they’d been sitting and came up with nothing. More breathing exercises followed as he centred himself and traced the path to the animal cages. They’d seen Zitka, the real elephant, as well as Eleanor before the show. Hopefully Dick had dropped his stuffed one there and everyone had thought to just leave it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It wasn’t like it was a new toy. In fact it was one of the oldest models they had, the elephant toy going through three remodels between the time Zitka had been gifted to Dick and now. So, hopefully, everyone had left it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Or maybe they hadn’t since Zitka was gone. Zitka was- </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He screamed into his hands, then remembered Dick wasn’t here and yelled, “Fuck!” as loud as he could. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>This wasn’t good. This really wasn’t good. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He climbed back into his car, banging his head off the steering wheel before starting his way back home. The manor loomed faster than it should, the lights in the foyer still on and Bruce able to see Dick sitting at the window, his little face so hopeful as he looked out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Fuck,” Bruce swore again, digging his phone out of his pants and dialling the last person he wanted to know what a failure of a father he was.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hello?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Clark it’s Bruce,” like caller ID wasn’t a thing. “I need a favour and you can’t hold it over my head.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a pause on the other end of the line, some rustling as Clark probably sat up in bed. Probably because Bruce still wasn’t too sure that his kind needed to sleep and Clark could well be out in Metropolis right now, his cape flapping in the wind. “Am I going to get in trouble for this favour?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“No,” Bruce sighed, head falling back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I’ll be there in a bit then.” the phone went dead, Bruce closing his eyes as he tossed it to the side. He stayed in the car, watching Dick’s face fall as Bruce didn’t miraculously come out and hold Zitka up. Clark zoomed in just as Dick disappeared, climbing into the passenger seat in half costume, “What’s up?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce had Clark shift up as he got his phone again, clicking through it until he found a photo of Zitka, “Dick lost him at the circus and I’ve tried looking but I don’t have whatever special eyes you do.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He got a glare for the ‘special eyes’ comment, one that softened as Clark looked at the toy, “Big favour,” he agreed.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Huge.” He tucked his phone away. “If you could just look for it at the grounds, maybe do a loop here too, I’d more than appreciate it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Clark nodded, already climbing out, “sure thing. I’ll text you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce nodded, bracing himself as he climbed out too. Dick was at the front door now, and not even seeing Superman fly off had him distracted away from asking if Bruce had found Zitka. He’d never felt like more of a failure saying no. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>That night was awful. Plain awful. Dick didn’t sleep, at all. Instead he did another comb of the manor, Bruce helping before angry tears took over as the sun rose. It became a sort of pattern after that, like the first weeks at the manor all over again. Dick cried, then he got quiet, haunting the halls in the hopes Zitka would come back to him. He didn’t sleep. He didn’t eat. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce had to however, and felt like the worst sort of human being when he woke to Dick staring down at him from the side of the bed. Like he should have found Zitka by now. He was a detective after all, a lost toy should be easy. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then one day Dick stopped crying. He came down to breakfast as quietly as he did a lot of things, hopping into his seat with a low, “Morning.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Morning,” Bruce repeated back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick stared at the countertop, eyes dull even when his favourite pancakes and bacon smiley face was slid in front of him. “I’ve come to a decision,” he announced after a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh?” Bruce prompted when the silence got a little too much.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick nodded, “I’ve decided I don’t need Zitka anymore.” Oh god it was worse than he thought. “I’m ten years old now. I’m not a child. So I don’t need a stuffed elephant to- to keep me company. Robin doesn’t have an elephant after all. Robin doesn’t need one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce closed his eyes, wishing Clark had texted anything other than a ‘</span>
  <em>
    <span>no sign, sorry B xx</span>
  </em>
  <span>’  the other day. He lost his appetite, Alfred emptying two plates that morning instead of just one. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>What came next was what Bruce could only describe as an animal purge from Dick’s room. The toys Bruce had won at Amusement Mile were all taken down, as well as the ones Dick had made him buy him from the zoo and the museum and Bruce really needed to stop buying him toys. The point was that they were all taken down, and after Alfred had joined Bruce in the doorway, boxed up.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Is there no way you can get him another one?” Alfred murmured, watching the owl join his friends in the box. “That circus must have tonnes lying around.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“It won’t be his,” Bruce pointed out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alfred sighed next to him, “Master Bruce, I know Master Dick likes to think he’s an adult but he isn’t. If you give him an elephant that looks the same as the one he had before he’ll be so grateful he won’t even know that it’s not the same one. It’s the sentiment of the thing that he misses, not the actual thing itself.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which Alfred, as usual, had a point about.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean,” he went on, “It’s not like your father didn’t replace some of your own toys when they went missing. You remember Gray don’t you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The stuffed penguin he may or may not have dragged around since he was three. He’d named it that because, firstly, the Gray Ghost was the best detective alive and there was nothing anyone could say that would prove it different, and secondly because the penguin’s coat was grey instead of black. Wait a minute, “Father replaced him?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You lost him at the beach if I recall. Your mother was so worried you cried so much she had your father go out and buy a replacement. You never knew the difference.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Son of a bitch he hadn’t. “Okay.” He’d go and get another one then. “I’m gonna have to leave you both though. He can’t know I’m buying another one.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alfred hummed, slipping him a set of keys, “I packed you some lunch.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the best.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started with the zoo. The zoo had animals, and in those animals were elephants. Ergo, they must have elephants in their gift shop. Except, when Bruce bartered his way to the actual gift shop, they looked nothing like Zitka. The legs were too firm, the trunk raised up. Zitka was more of a floppy guy, chilling in a constant sprawl yet full enough to be cuddly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But that was okay because there had to be someone else who sold elephants. Which there was. The museum sold toy elephants now they had an Indian exhibit in, the animals of the east all glaring at him when he went to check them out. Dick would have loved them, but none of them looked like Zitka. These elephants were darker in colour, they also had hair on their heads which, even if Bruce cut off would still not look like Zitka.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The aquarium he tried just for the hell of it. Then the toy stores. Yet none of them had what he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Even Ebay was being difficult with him, all the elephants Mr Haly had sold over the years version 2 of what he wanted, or so vintage they were a whole other elephant altogether.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Which left him only one option. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Pulling up to the gas station, he made a few calls, made some excuses for the week at work, and looked up just where Haly’s circus was performing right now. It was a long shot that they even still had copies of the kind of elephant they sold when Dick was a baby but Bruce had to try. He owed it to Dick to try. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As luck had it they were in Coast. A seven hour drive, and one he could make with only one stop if he begged Barry for a bed for the night. Easy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Except there was traffic in Metropolis which pushed the drive up to nine. Then a crash on the highway. Then Barry was at work when Bruce actually made it to Central at seven the next day. He ended up sleeping in his car, being woken by the police as a suspected homeless man and was laughed at over the phone from Barry the whole two hours from Central to Coast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he got there. Bruce got there and he’d never been so happy to see that circus big top in his life.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His door slammed as he raced past bustling workers trying to prepare for their opening night. Vaulting over lights and ducking under crates he found Haly’s trailer after a few good minutes of looking, knocking probably harder than he had any right to until Mr Haly himself was opening it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>At least one of them looked rested, Haly giving Bruce a pursed once over. The man didn’t mention it however, just smiled at Bruce and went back into his trailer. Bruce made to follow only for Haly to come back with, “I suppose you’ve come for this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce felt like he might cry, “Yes.” Oh god it was Zitka. “Thank you so much. Thank you God, you do not know how much we’ve been looking for it.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haly’s smile widened, “I have a feeling considering you’re here. I was gonna mail it to be honest. Dickie lost it over by the tigers.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The tigers. Of course it was by the tigers! “Thank you,” Bruce said again. “Thank you.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haly nodded, the elephant changing hands, which was around about the time Bruce spotted, “Yeah, er, they may have been a bit of an accident with it. I think one of the tigers got it before we found it. Or someone stood on it wrong,” since there was a leg missing from Dick’s beloved elephant. Quite a lot of stuffing gone too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Right.” Christ. He couldn’t give this back to Dick. It was filthy too, the mud that had surrounded the animal cages back in Gotham practically ingrained into the fur now. Still, it was Zitka, and surely something was better than nothing. Right? </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce thought and he thought quickly, forcing himself to think of it like a project and not like Dick’s beloved toy that could not possibly ever be replaced. If it were a hole in his cape, he would repair it. He’d go and find the right fabric and repair it. In this case, maybe Bruce could do the same. Or, alternatively, he could buy another elephant and steal one of its legs.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sighed, going through each option before just throwing out there for the hell of it, “Don’t suppose you have any more of these lying around do you?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haly shook his head, “That model’s long outdated.” like Bruce knew. “But,” Oh? But was good. “There’s a warehouse in Atlantic City. We keep all our old circus equipment and whatnot there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Whatnot meaning elephants?” Things were finally going his way.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Haly nodded. “There’s a bunch of other things there we don’t use. If you see anything you think Dick might like you’re welcome to take it home with you. Just,” he pulled a face, “Nothing too expensive. We still bring out some of the old acts every once in a while.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce nodded, thanking Haly, even bowing once he was sure, on his way back to his car, an address going into his GPS as soon as he booted it up. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Atlantic City.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That was almost exactly the way Bruce had came, just a little more hours added on. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He did the math in his head as he started the car up, nearly tying Zitka to the seat next to him so it wouldn’t go away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It would be faster if he flew. But that meant leaving his car, and then coming back for it. Barry wouldn’t drive it for him. Ollie he didn’t trust. Clark was an option, but Bruce sort of wanted to keep him for the free flight to Atlantic. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Urgh he was going to have to drive. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was probably for the best anyway. Clark didn’t exactly have trunk space, and the speed he flew who knew what might happen to Zitka. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>So he buckled down, got way too many burgers on the way there, and drove nearly fourteen hours to Atlantic City. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The warehouse was difficult to find. It was hidden in an industrial estate with too many advertisements to look at. When he did find it, and jimmy the lock open, he knew his luck couldn’t have been that great since the place was a mess. Just a plain mess.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There were piles upon piles of equipment and costumes and God knows what else. None of it was organised. It was like Haly just chucked everything in when he was done with it and hope the organisation fairy would come and do what he wouldn’t.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Bruce took a deep breath, reminding himself Haly ran a circus. A busy, travelling circus that didn’t have time to organise a warehouse they just put old junk in when there were people to pay and animals to feed and permits to get. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It still didn’t make the headache any easier to get rid of.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sought out a bathroom first, cleaning both himself, and Zitka, up. The dirt was awful to get out, and even when he was done he was sure he’d need Alfred to take it for a thorough wash before letting Dick take it. Still, it was workable. He could sort it out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It took hours to dig up the first elephant. For a moment Bruce was tempted to take this one back to Dick. But, as he’d told Alfred, this one wasn’t Dick’s Zitka. Just another elephant that hadn’t been given to a child. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grabbed a knife out of the car as well as the first aid kit. He almost performed elephant surgery right then before realising he had no idea how to attach a leg to an elephant.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He rubbed his head, setting both elephants down as he dug through the pile of junk again, Bruce finding another elephant after a while.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>After that it was a lot of studying where the leg attached, how it attached and practicing the sewing pattern before he even tried transferring a leg from one elephant to another. The other elephants that was. There was no way Bruce was chancing messing up Dick’s. Not until he knew it would turn out perfect.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>So all four legs came off and were reattached. Then again, and again until he couldn’t tell one elephant from another.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Only then, as he climbed into his car, putting the overhead light on, did he try and mend Dick’s elephant, starting with stuffing it back up again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was well past midnight by the time Bruce cut off the remaining thread, collapsing back into his seat. He slept for a good seven hours after that, waking to blinding sunlight and a smell Bruce knew was coming from himself.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Ugh.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stretched, Zitka’s trunk smiling back at him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He needed breakfast. Then gas before driving back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started the car, then shut it off again as curiosity got the best of him. He’d not actually looked around the warehouse. Who knew when the next time Bruce would have permission to be back here and take things was as well. He could just take a look. See if there was anything Dick might be interested in.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He still grabbed breakfast. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The warehouse didn’t look nearly as impossible as it had yesterday. Stress did funny things to the mind he’d been told. In fact, with a bit of light Bruce could see random trinkets that weren’t just a mass of metal and ropes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He started with the pile nearest the door, unearthing costumes that Dick wouldn’t be able to fit into or were ripped too much to mend. The next pile was more paper than metal, Bruce’s first of many treasures found in there, Bruce thankful he’d taken the car as he started shoving things in the trunk.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Five piles later Bruce had so many things in his car he had to stop before he literally would need to ask Clark to help him carry it back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He actually enjoyed the drive back, his lungs not as tight as they had been this past- God it had been a week. He sent off a text to Alfred when he hit traffic, telling him to get the washing machine ready since Bruce was coming home a hero.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Hopefully.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>If Dick hadn’t been bluffing about that toy purge Bruce didn’t know what he would do.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Cry maybe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Regardless he was in good spirits when he rolled up to the manor, sneaking through the side door to discreetly hand Zitka off to Alfred. “It’s actually Zitka too,” Bruce said proudly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alfred raised a brow, “Well done then sir.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He grinned all the way to his shower, eating almost half the pantry as he waited for Zitka to dry.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Alfred drove Dick home at five, the door closing quietly and Bruce hearing Alfred have to actually coerce Dick to have his evening snack. He felt more than bad about leaving Alfred with Dick. But if Bruce had went all the way to Coast and come home with nothing, he didn’t want to see the look on Dick’s face. See the hope leave his eyes again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There was a little light to Dick’s eyes when he saw Bruce, a kick in his step as he demanded, “Where have you been Bruce!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“All over the place,” Bruce told him, waiting until they both had something to eat in front of them before Bruce started with his story. Well, Zitka’s story. He embellished a little, Dick was ten, he paid more attention when the story was more fanciful. Regardless, Zitka had made it home. “He’s still a little tender,” Bruce told him, handing Zitka over, “He just had a major operation, but he’s back, and he missed you Dickie.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Dick took Zitka carefully, holding him like he was actual gold. It didn’t take long before Dick was clutching him close however, thanking Bruce so much the drive had been worth it.</span>
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  <span>“I also got you something else. Mr Haly said I could take as much as I liked, so,” he grabbed Dick’s hand, taking him up to Dick’s room where Bruce had grabbed the toys Dick had boxed away and lay some of his finds on top. “These,” Bruce darted to the nearest poster, “I found a bunch of. I thought we could decorate your room with them,” Since the walls were far too plain for Bruce’s liking.</span>
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  <span>Dick’s mouth dropped, his feet stuttering forward, “That’s my dad,” Dick said.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yeah.” His mom, his dad, his uncles and aunts. The Flying Grayson’s, headline act that were on more posters than Bruce had known of. “There’s more. I even found some with you on.” He showed all of them, pretty sure Dick had stopped paying attention after the third, his cheeks red and breath stuttering as he traced his family’s faces. “Then I found this,” Bruce went on, figuring it was best to get it all over with and grabbing the costume he’d brought home. “I saw it on one of the posters. I think your dad was wearing it. I figured maybe you might grow into it when you’re older.”</span>
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  <span>If Dick had been crying before he was outright bawling now as he reached wet hands to his dad’s old costume. He didn’t put it down the rest of the night, crying in Bruce’s lap as he held the suit to his face. He’d forgotten what his dad smelled like, he told Bruce. What they looked like. It had only been a year and Dick had forgotten them. “That’s so bad isn’t it? It’s so bad?”</span>
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  <span>“It’s not,” Bruce promised. “Dick it’s not. I forget my parents all the time too,” he said, and it was true. If it weren’t for the old bottle of perfume, he never would have remembered what his mom smelled like. If it weren’t for the photos, for the paintings, he would have long forgotten his parents faces. In fact he had. When he went travelling there were days he felt like the worst person in the world because he couldn’t remember what his mother’s nose looked like. “We don’t notice these things when the person they belong to are there all the time. Memory fades Dick. And that’s not a bad thing, it’s just what happens. But it’ll always be there, waiting for you to trigger it again.”</span>
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  <span>Dick still didn’t forgive himself. Not until early the next afternoon. He’d managed to stuff down four of Alfred’s sandwiches, both of them getting their appetite back, Dick hesitantly asking, “Won’t Alfred be mad if we put the posters all over the place?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hmmm,” he wouldn’t be. In fact, Alfred had tried for years when Bruce had been a boy to get him to decorate his room. Still, “I don’t know if you know this Dick, but it’s actually my house. So if we ask nicely and maybe do a few chores I don’t see why Alfred wouldn’t let us.”</span>
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  <span>Dick nodded, making Bruce pinky promise with Zitka that they could at least put one poster up. The one of all of them, Dick, his parents, his aunts and uncles, all of them there so Dick wouldn’t forget them again.</span>
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  <span>Even when Tim moved in, years later, did he keep that poster up. He always had a travelling heart, never able to stay still for more than a few months, but the manor was his home, and the manor was where Zitka lived, Dick trusting Bruce to keep him safe because he’d already brought Zitka home once, and to Dick that was probably the most magical thing Bruce had ever done for him. Even more magic than letting him become Robin. </span>
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